A Warrior, A Mentor, A Brother, A Friend
by vigilantedragonlady
Summary: A collection of drabbles and oneshots revolving around Gobber's relationship with the Haddocks over the years. Set before, during, and after the movies. Spoilery chapters will come with warnings. Gen. CHAPTER 5: Hiccup was not dead. He could not be dead.
1. Chapter 1

_Welcome to my first multi-chapter HTTYD fic! I knew this day would come sooner or later._

_Installments are of varying lengths (mostly drabbles) and are posted in no particular chronological order, though the first two just happen to be sequential. Enjoy, and please review if you do! :3_

Length (this chapter): 300 words

Characters (this chapter): Stoick, Gobber

Summary (this chapter): "[Hiccup] came early into this world..."

* * *

It was just before dawn when Stoick finally arrived at the forge. His face was white and he stopped in the doorway, swaying. Gobber set down his work at once and shoved a stool in Stoick's direction. Stoick half-collapsed onto it.

"Is she—"Gobber began, swallowing hard.

Stoick stared at him for a second like he did not understand. Then he blinked and shook his head. "Valka's—no, she's fine. Resting."

"Then, the baby?"

"A boy. Gothi says he's healthy. But he's so _tiny_..."

Gobber almost collapsed, himself, in relief. He found himself another stool. "That's to be expected, this early. He's a Haddock, after all. Probably was just ready to be out in the world, making his mark alongside his dad."

"Aye," Stoick agreed, color returning to his face. "Aye, you're right."

"Besides, look at Valka. Never waited for anything in her life. This child is going to be a hellion, with you two for parents."

Stoick started to reply, but then stopped short with a look of awe. "Parents," he repeated. "I'm a parent, Gobber."

"Aye. You are."

"I've got a son."

"That you do. An impatient little hiccup of a son." He offered him his good hand. "Congratulations."

Stoick stared for a second, an enormous grin breaking out across his face. He grabbed Gobber's hand and used it to pull both of them to their feet and into a rough hug. If his laugh sounded a bit thick, Gobber generously chose not to notice—though he did snicker when Stoick tripped over the stool on his way out.

Beaming, Gobber watched him go. Gods knew an early birth had its dangers, and there would be complications ahead. But with a father like that, he had no doubt at all that the boy would be just fine


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much to everyone who read, followed, favorited and reviewed! It's so nice to know my story is not just floating in the void. :3 Hope you continue to enjoy it!  
_

Length (this chapter): 500 words

Characters (this chapter): Stoick, Gobber, Valka, baby!Hiccup

Summary (this chapter): Baby Hiccup has collywobbles. Stoick has anxiety.

* * *

"Stoick, calm down. You'll split your skull, thinking too much. D'you want to end up like Bucket?"

Stoick ignored him and kept pacing, big hands clenching and unclenching. Behind them, a baby's muffled wails could be heard from inside the house.

Gobber sighed. "You're overreacting. It's just a bit of collywobbles. Every baby gets it."

"Every baby is not Hiccup," Stoick growled. "You know how small—"

The door behind them swung open and Valka all but sprinted through it, Hiccup in her arms and a look of desperation on her face. Her hair was slipping out of its braids and there were bruised circles beneath her eyes.

"You have to take him," she said before Stoick could open his mouth. "I've tried everything, but he won't stop crying."

Stoick reached out but then hesitated. "But he's sick, Val. He needs his mother. What if I—"

"You're not going to break him, Stoick!" Valka snapped. The baby screamed louder in response and she winced, softening her tone. "He likes it best when you hold him." Gobber did not miss the slight wistfulness in her smile as she said it.

Stoick looked at her for a moment and then reached out for Hiccup. His hands were bigger the baby's whole body, but they held Hiccup with a gentleness that would have shocked anyone who didn't know him well. Gobber found it rather endearing, though he'd never say it out loud.

Being in his father's arms was like magic. Almost instantly Hiccup's cries slowed and then, with an actual hiccup, they stopped. Fat tears still ran down his cheeks, red with crying and fever. But as usual, one tiny hand reached out and fastened itself to the unruly red beard, and his eyes fixed themselves on his father's face as if awestruck. And as usual, Stoick stared back with the same expression.

Valka and Gobber shared a sigh. "Well," said Gobber, "I think we can leave them alone for an hour or two." He nudged Valka gently. "You get some sleep. I'll make supper."

"Inviting yourself over again?" she teased with a smile, patting his arm as he led the way inside.

"Of course. You'd _all_ have collywobbles if I didn't do the cooking."

As he moved to close the door behind them Gobber glanced back to see Stoick, face bent close to his son's, talking to him quietly. Hiccup looked as though he were hanging onto every word, green eyes huge and serious.

Gobber grinned at the sight. Inseparable already, those two. He'd never seen a father and son more made for each other.


	3. Chapter 3

_Jumping timeline a bit here, as I warned I would. :3_

_Also, thought I should mention that ideas and suggestions for chapters are welcome! I've got a whole list of scenes to work through, but the lovely thing about fic collections is they can never get too big. I certainly wouldn't mind writing about Gobber and the Haddocks for a very, very long time. :)_

Length (this chapter): 600 words  
Characters (this chapter): Gobber, Stoick, Valka  
Summary (this chapter): _"We are," Valka gasps finally, "really stupid."_

* * *

"We are never speaking of this. Ever."

"Well, I think it's rather cozy."

"You don't get to talk, Gobber. This is all your fault."

Offended, Gobber sits up on one elbow. "Wha—who's the one who fell overboard because he was too busy bellowing at the rest of us to hold on to take his own advice?"

"Who's the one who almost drowned himself and me by diving in with only two working limbs?" Stoick retorts. "At least Valka brought a rope."

"Oh aye, her rope was very helpful, right until it snapped."

Valka glares at him over Stoick's broad chest. "It isn't my fault you two oafs are the size of yaks."

"Hey," protests Stoick, wounded.

"Well, I'm the one who saw the island." Gobber settles back down. "We'd be in a sea dragon's belly right now if it weren't for me."

"At least a sea dragon's belly would be warm. And soft. I'm not sure this is an improvement."

"Come on, Valka, at least now you have an excuse to cuddle with your—oof." Valka's fist has surprisingly good aim even in the dark of the cave.

Silence falls. Suddenly Gobber snickers, drawing a wary nudge from Stoick. "What?"

"You fell overboard," Gobber tells him, snickering harder. "I jumped in after you with a peg leg and a hook for an arm. Valka's rope snapped."

Stoick stares at him like he's worried Gobber might have swallowed too much sea water, but then Valka lets out a guffaw, and a grin breaks out on Stoick's face. They all laugh like lunatics for the next few minutes, until they are breathless and wiping tears away.

"We are," Valka gasps finally, "really stupid."

Gobber nods even though she can't see him. "We are that."

They fall into easy silence again. This time it is Stoick who breaks it.

"Gobber, are you _sleeping_?" He sounds outraged.

Gobber grunts. "Why not? The ship won't find us until the storm lets up. It's cold in here and you make a lovely pillow."

"He's right," Valka says with a yawn. "You do."

"Odin's Beard, did Val just agree with me? Stoick, you heard it! She agreed with me!"

This earns him another swat. "Shut up, Gobber."

Stoick heaves a very loud, very tired sigh. "Next time I fall overboard, I want both of you to just let me drown."

Gobber and Valka's response is simultaneous and immediate. "Not going to happen."

Without needing to look Gobber knows Stoick is blinking at them, startled by their sudden intensity. He almost opens his eyes just to roll them. As if he or Valka would even joke about letting harm come to Stoick. He is Gobber's best friend, and Valka's—well, Gobber isn't sure what Stoick is to Valka yet, but he knew she cares for him as deeply as he does. Today was proof of that.

After a moment Stoick's arm, which Gobber is currently using as a pillow, squeezes his shoulder—a little awkwardly, thanks to the position, but Gobber recognizes the gratitude in the gesture. He grins and hears Valka shift to plant a kiss on Stoick's cheek.

The three of them make themselves comfortable. A few hours later, that is how they are found: piled together and, to Stoick's mortification, sound asleep. Their rescuers kindly say nothing about it, but Gobber wouldn't care if they did and knows Valka wouldn't either. A little embarrassment is a small price to pay for Stoick's life, and—stupid or not—they'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Stoick would just have to get used to it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks SO very much for all the kind reviews and PMs! I'm so thrilled that you are enjoying my story. Sorry if I haven't responded to you yet - I will do so ASAP!_

Length (this chapter): Oneshot  
Characters (this chapter): Gobber, Hiccup, Stoick

Summary (this chapter): Vikings don't cry. Except for when they do.

* * *

Gobber finds Hiccup in the last—and, in hindsight, most obvious—place he looks. The boy is on the rocky overlook above the docks, sitting near the edge with his arms wrapped around drawn-up knees. He looks even tinier than usual, silhouetted against the clear sky. Gobber makes no attempt to hide his approach, lest he startle the 8-year-old right off the cliff, but Hiccup only hunches his shoulders as he sits down heavily beside him.

Neither say anything for a few minutes. Gobber studies Hiccup out of the corner of his eye, not commenting when the child scrubs a sleeve across his face and sniffs quietly. Hiccup's chin rests on his knees and he keeps his gaze on the horizon, in the direction his father's ship will soon be sailing.

At length Gobber breaks the silence, his tone light. "Your father's pretty worried about you right now. You gave him quite a scare, running off without a word like that. Didn't want to say goodbye?"

Hiccup's expression flickers, but he remains silent. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Gobber presses on. "You know it's just a short trip this time. He's just going to meet with the Berserkers and renew the treaty. He'll be back in three, four days." He pauses. "It won't be like last time. Oswald isn't the type for surprise attacks."

The boy flinches noticeably, then mumbles something and tucks his head, pressing his forehead into his knees. Gobber nods to himself. He is an old hand at getting recalcitrant Haddocks to talk, and he's clearly on the right track with this one.

It makes sense, too. Only a few months ago Stoick returned from an attempt at negotiations with Alvin with a head wound that was still bleeding heavily by the time he stumbled off the ship. The arrow had, thank Odin, glanced off his helmet and only grazed him, but Gobber himself would admit to a moment of terror at the sight of him, blood covering half his face despite the bandages. Hiccup had been attached to Stoick like a barnacle on a ship for days afterward.

Gobber nudges the boy with his shoulder. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I said, I _know_." Hiccup does not lift his head, but turns it slightly so his words are less muffled. Gobber stifles a grin. Peevishness, in father _or_ son, is always a good sign that he's getting through.

"Well then, what's the problem? He said you were off running as soon as he came to say goodbye." He studies the top of the boy's head. "Was it so he wouldn't see you crying?"

Hiccup freezes.

Aha. Gobber does roll his eyes this time. Gods preserve him from stubborn Haddocks bottling up their feelings until they burst. "He wouldn't be mad, you know," he says. "It's only natural, after what happened—"

"Vikings don't cry," Hiccup interrupts fiercely.

Gobber scratches his chin. Well, that's true, to a point. Vikings are hardly known for their soft and cuddly demeanors. But then again, they aren't known for their restraint, either, emotional or otherwise. He wraps an arm around Hiccup's thin shoulders. The boy is tense, braced for censure, and Gobber shakes him a little, gently—he should know better than that by now.

"Now, you listen to me," he says. "There are three situations when even Vikings are allowed to cry. One is at weddings. I've seen many a warrior bawl like a baby all the way through the ceremony. It's practically expected. I myself may have gotten a bit… misty-eyed when your parents got married. Though mostly it's because I was so shocked it finally happened."

From the subtle relaxing of Hiccup's shoulders, he can tell he has the boy's attention. Which is good, because the next one is important. "Another time we are allowed to cry is when someone we care about is hurt or killed. There's not a man or woman on Berk who won't shed a tear then, and there's no shame in it. Some don't like to do it in front of everybody, but I promise you we've all done it."

"Even you?" Hiccup's voice is tiny, but curious. One green eye is just visible beneath his hair, watching him intently.

"Aye, even me. When you're older, remind me to tell you about the time your father almost got himself killed saving our ship from an angry skrill." Gobber still cringes at the memory. It had been bad, very bad. He doesn't think he'll ever forget Valka's screams.

"What's the last one?" Hiccup has finally raised his head off his knees. "You said there were three times Vikings are allowed to cry."

"Ah, well, the third one's a bit different for each person. It's when something happens that makes you so happy, smiling just isn't enough." Hiccup's eyebrows draw together as he tries to imagine such a scenario, and Gobber lowers his voice conspiratorially. "The only time I've seen your dad cry, it was for that reason."

Hiccup gives him a skeptical look. "My dad never cries."

"He did," Gobber confirms. "One time, in all the years I've known him. Do you want to know why?" Hiccup nods eagerly, sitting up straight, and Gobber gives his shoulders a squeeze. "It was the day you were born."

Hiccup stares at him, eyes enormous, looking for evidence of a lie. Gobber stares right back, letting the truth of it sink in. Finally Hiccup blinks a few times. "Really?"

Gobber gives him a firm nod. "Really."

The enormous smile that lights up Hiccup's face would warm even Mildew's craggy old heart, Gobber thinks. Hiccup scrambles to his feet, suddenly all energy and motion. "Dad hasn't left yet, has he?"

Gobber grins and points below them. "See for yourself."

Down at the docks, Stoick is indeed still waiting, bag slung over his shoulder. He looks like an anxious child himself, as Gobber will gleefully tell him later, shuffling his feet and trying to pretend he isn't delaying because his child isn't there to see him off. Behind him the ship is ready to sail, its crew standing around impatiently but not brave enough to say anything.

"Dad!"

Stoick whirls at Hiccup's shout, just in time to see the boy lose his footing on the steep slope and go tumbling down, face first. Stoick starts forward in alarm, but Hiccup is back on his feet in an instant and continues at full speed. Following behind at a more sensible pace, Gobber watches with satisfaction as Stoick drops his bag in order to catch the armful of tiny, messy-haired child that launches itself at him without slowing down.

The ship's crew manage to find themselves suddenly distracted by other things, giving their Chief privacy as he hugs his son, almost smothering him in his big arms. Stoick is beaming, the worry vanished from his face. He meets Gobber's eyes over Hiccup's head and gives him a look Gobber knows well. _Thank you._

He returns it with a shrug and a nod. _Any time._


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, favorite, follow and review this fic collection! You're all so encouraging. I know this is a short one-it's been a busy week so I haven't had a chance to work on my longer ideas-but expect the next addition very soon!_

_And, for those curious... Oh yes, the "angry skrill" story will definitely be making an appearance at some point. :3_

Length (this chapter): 400 words  
Characters (this chapter): Gobber, Stoick

Summary (this chapter): To the end of his days Gobber would never forget the look on Stoick's face after the Red Death finally fell to earth…

* * *

_To the end of his days Gobber would never forget the look on Stoick's face after the Red Death finally fell to earth, shaking it like a hammer-strike, and everything went silent._

Their eyes met, just for a moment, as they staggered to their feet amid the dust and smoke and ash. They both paused, straining to hear the sound of a Night Fury sweeping overhead, or Hiccup's voice, full of exhilarated pride, shouting at them to see what he'd done.

Nothing.

Stoick's face crumbled, gray with the same horrible fear and grief that was crushing the air from Gobber's lungs, and he could do nothing but stare back. It was an impossible thought: that Hiccup—tiny, stubborn, brilliant Hiccup, his best friend's son, who Gobber had always expected to like but never expected to _love_—might be gone.

That a boy who could shoot down and tame and _ride_ a Night Fury like that—

A boy who could lead a group of teenagers, who just weeks ago had ignored his very presence except to laugh at it, into an aerial battle against a monster the likes of which none of them had ever seen—

Who could _win_ such a battle with little more than his wits and the loyalty of a dragon—

It was impossible. _Hiccup is not dead._

Gobber steeled himself, holding onto that thought with all the desperate strength of a drowning man, and grasped Stoick's arm. Stoick blinked at him, looking as if he'd taken a blow to the head. Gobber tightened his grip.

"He's not dead."

His voice was steady, his eyes dry. He convinced even himself, despite the fear that gnawed at the edge of his heart. Hiccup was not dead. _Could not_ be dead. Stoick would not be able to bear it—and neither would he.

The words seemed to shock Stoick into movement. He jerked, almost staggering, but then pulled himself upright. His eyes were suddenly clear and sharp, and his face set into the determined scowl Gobber knew well. He gave a short, sharp nod.

Then he took off at a run, disappearing into the thick cloud of ash. Gobber followed at once, refusing to let Stoick search alone. He would be right behind, there to rejoice with him… or to mourn with him.

_Hiccup is not dead._

He prayed to every god he could think of that he was right.


End file.
